A perfect, quiet darkness. A blank space. Nothing.
Not only around, but on the inside.
It is a blessing to don't have body to struggle in pain—
To don't have legs to stand on the ground—
To don't have hands to hold another—
To don't have heart to fall in love.
Nothing is needed in this world.
Yet, all memories and feelings are still present.
Unfortunately—
—everything exists.

It happens slowly, gently.
With a taste a little bittersweet.
Everything is here. Colorful and meaningful, painful—like it always was.

At the bottom of brilliant April—
Extends a cluster of calamite clouds—
White cedars standing quietly against the sky.
I will think about time, nature, and all of existence.
Yet, such thoughts would not be mine.
Because everything—is everyone who explained it to me.
And if everything is something I can share with someone.
If everything is something that can be taken from me.
What is truly—absolutely mine?
Perhaps, something I have had since my birth—
A concept establishing one's existence around it—
The only thing that cannot be lost or shared.

If anything, when it was over, I was thinking about you.
I remember how we climbed onto the rooftop and looked at the starry sky.
I was very quiet and couldn't answer much. You were explaining so many things.
I listened to every word you said, even if I couldn't understand it—I was happy.
I remember how we got into the abandoned house, even though it was forbidden.
We found so many interesting things, some of which even I never seen before.
We explored and laughed. We lay on the floor, falling asleep—I was happy.
I remember the winter night when I suddenly decided to leave your house.
Worrying about me, you did the same, and we walked the night together.
In the white fields surrounded by forest, we threw snowballs at each other—I was happy.
I remember how you were sick and I were constantly around your bed.
For the whole day, we played that silly game. I was very bad at it.
You encouraged me to train until I became decent at it—I WAS HAPPY.
I remember all the troubles we have faced—the moments of sorrow and happiness.
Existence. Like a beating heart—a flickering light—a breathing of the air.
All around—all around—the world of flattery—
At the bottom of the bright atmosphere of April—
The scenery was blurred with tears.
I remember many things.
It is a blessing to have these memories.
I am a mortal being like any other—
Each day—
Each passing moment is so very limited.
It makes me happy that my little, meaningless existence—
One that will be lost in time—as if I were never here,
Was filled with memories of you~♡
Rest in Peace Veronica 19.01.2025 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸